Spotlight On You
by Ink Runs Through My Veins
Summary: I've always watched her. Rain or shine she always comes out just to dance. A silent performance where I am her hidden audience. I want to know the name of this beautiful angel who dances through pain and suffering. I want to know who her. Who is she?


Spotlight On You  
By Sacred Silver Goddess

Bloody hell it's been a while! Too make up for my absence of...three weeks? Two? It doesn't matter because I'm back for only a week! Yes, you heard me correctly. A week. I'm using the library computer near my grandmother's house to upload. It's not very fun but it's all I've got.  
I do not own Shugo Chara or any of its characters.

* * *

It's not fun to live in an apartment building. Nobody knows your next-door neighbor. When you are listening to your music the people above you tell you to shut the hell up. Yeah, nice people.

Of course, there is one benefit to being stuck in this hellhole.  
__

_**Her**_.

There's this girl that lives in the house in front of my apartment complex. Every night she just comes outside and starts to sway under streetlights in front of her porch. It's beautiful and captures me so I can't look away. I watch as she sways to invisible music only _**she **_can hear.

Light taps of her foot.

A little sway of her hips.

A few nods of her head.

A twirl or two.

And then a bow. Always a bow at the end.

Invisible music, unseen audiences, hidden spotlights.

Always the same routine every day.

* * *

In the daytime I hear the drunken screams of her parents. Or at least, I think it's her parents. I don't know. But I never hear her voice. It's always one high-pitched screech and one low growl. Never the angelic voice that I know belongs to her. I can't make out what they argue about. Something about a job and money. It's been that way since I moved in two years ago. _**She's **_the only reason I stay. If it wasn't for her, I would have moved out a while ago.

I wonder what her name is.

* * *

My friends became curious at what I was so distracted about. I had been wondering what school she went to since I was positive she didn't go to my high school. They called me a stalker when finally I told them about her.

"Seriously dude?" Eyebrows raised. "_**That **_is what you do in your free time? Stalk some weird girl in a broken house?"

"She is not weird!"

"Uh-huh. That's why you can't stop talking about her."

I sigh. "Look, I'm just curious about her. She's so..." I'm at a loss for words.

Eyes roll. "Sure dude, whatever you say. Listen, I'm going to introduce you to some girls so you can stop talking about her like the stalker you're turning into okay?"

That was the last time I talked to him.

* * *

I saw her again today. Except this time, her eye was black and she had a bruise on her beautiful cheek. I wanted to kill whoever dared to hurt the face of an angel. I wanted to rip their limbs from their sockets and feed it to a rabid dog.

...That sounded stalkerish didn't it?

But even though she was hurt (and limping) she still did her dance. She still danced, just not as perfectly. She stumbled her and there and I could tell from this distance she was sweating a lot. She lifted her leg to twirl and I caught the sight of a seriously huge bruise. Its looked like the implant of a baseball bat that ran from what looked like her thigh (I wouldn't know, I'm no pervert) to her lower calf. She was shaking. I just couldn't stand there and watch. I ran out of my room, ignoring my parent's calls and the yells of our landlady, to rush outside. But by the time I got there she was gone.

* * *

The next few weeks I didn't see her. It worried me. She came out at least every day. Eventually I saw people come out of the house. Among them was a strict looking woman in black business clothes. She came out with another strict looking person, also in business clothes. Except it was a man. They both wore scowls as they talked to a small crowd outside their house. I dressed in black clothes so I wouldn't be suspicious and yelled to my mother that I was going out as I slipped in among the crowd just as the speech was starting.

"-and by the blood in me I have never known such an irresponsible child! I mean, running out into the street when a bus was approaching her." She made a 'tsk' noise and crossed her arms. "I swear, that child was going to be the death of me. Anyway, thank you all for coming even if you barely knew Rima." Rima? Was that the girl's name? "There will be snacks inside the house. Please be free to have as much as you like." At the mention of snacks everyone immediately stumbled inside. I intercepted the man and woman before they went inside their house.

"Um, excuse me?" They turned at the sound of my voice and, if possible, scowled even more.

"What do you want?" The man growled.

"Forgive me for interrupting your mourning. But I'm a...friend of Rima-chan." I couldn't exactly say I looked at her from my window every night. "Did something happen?"

"Yes." The woman harrumphed. "She was walking down the street and according to witnesses, just rushed out onto the streets as a bus was turning the corner." She shook her head. "I can't imagine why. She has the perfect life here at home."

I couldn't help myself and started laughing. "Perfect life? Living with you people was probably hell for her. Did you even see the bruises you inflicted on her? The screams already scare the neighborhood, but did you ever once think about your daughter's feelings? The screams, the abuse. You probably verbally insulted her as well." I shook my head at their shaking forms. "You should be ashamed to call yourselves the parents of an angel."

"What would you know about her?" The woman shouted.

"I know that even if she is bruised and beaten she still finds a way to be herself. I know that even if she is downgraded by the two of you, she still finds a way to love you. I know she is a child that you two didn't deserve." I laughed. "Ironic, but I'm actually glad she passed away. Now she won't have to deal with the two of you anymore. Her supposed parents."

The man rushed at me to punch me but I side-stepped it and tripped him. The woman screamed.

"Pathetic." I spat. "You need violence to solve your problems. You're not even a real man aren't you?" And I turned around and walked away.

I ignored my mother's questions as I ran straight into my room and shed tears I would never tell anyone about.

* * *

I go to see her grave all the time.

The flowers placed there had all withered away. I knew that her parents didn't come to see her. After that confrontation they got a divorce (according to the gossiping old ladies in my apartment building) and each moved to a different country. The house was still for sale but neither could bear to stay in the house.

It's a routine for me. I go every month on the day when she died. I place flowers and tell her about myself. I go there every month until I am old and grey.  
I never found someone. I think that after seeing all these faces that paled compared to her, it just hit me. I should have had more courage to talk to her. I should have introduced myself when I had the chance. I should have helped her when she needed it and treated her gently. I should have been there for her. But I was too much of a coward to even show myself. Ha! Shows what kind of person I am.

I shake my head and lean against her grave. I know my old kimono will get dirty but I can feel it.

And I'm ready to embrace it.

As I close my eyes for the last time, all I can see is her face.

* * *

Ah, the story of unrequited love! What do ya think? Rate and review please!


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